


The Girl From Ipanema

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-02
Updated: 2006-01-02
Packaged: 2018-11-10 10:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ray has an idea stuck in his head.





	The Girl From Ipanema

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

The Girl From Ipanema

## The Girl From Ipanema

  
by gurrier  


Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Notes: For stop_drop_porn on LJ. Thank you to Tx_tart and Sprat for beta.

* * *

"That woman is insane, Fraser. Nutso. Totally power-crazed. I bet she even makes her boyfriends call her 'Sir'." Ray slid into the car and leaned across to open the passenger door. "What are the odds she's into leather and cuffs?"   
  
Fraser ducked in beside him. "I really couldn't say, Ray. She is my superior officer, after all, and such speculation is hardly proper." Didn't stop his lips twitching, though.  
  
"That'd explain why's she's a Mountie and not a teacher or something. All the yessir-ing, _and_ the boots and belt. Horse whips and saddles, too."  
  
" _Ray_." Fraser, who wasn't anywhere near as innocent as he'd like you believe, was grinning nearly as hard as Ray. "Inspector Thatcher's, ah, off-duty interests, are not something I want to think about. Particularly given how keen Turnbull is to keep her boots and Sam Browne in good order."   
  
Ray shuddered. "Too much information right there, Frase."  
  
*************  
  
Or maybe not. See, sometimes Ray got an idea in his head and it just ... stuck. Like "The Girl from Ipanema", going around and around and _around_ until you wanted to shoot yourself.  
  
And now it was _hours_ later, back at his place. They'd had dinner, a couple beers, the game was on, but he was still thinking about Thatcher. Only not so much _Thatcher_ as the guys at the 27th.   
  
"Dewey, he'd be all about an audience, getting caught; restrooms, the file room, cars, anywhere someone might see him. And fish. Fish in public places." He nudged Fraser. "What d'ya think?"  
  
Fraser kept his eyes pointedly on the game. "Really, Ray, I don't see that it's any concern of ours."   
  
"Oh c'mon, Frase! You're a cop, you gotta be a little curious. Gotta wonder what people get up to, what does it for them. Once, y'know, the topic comes up." He grinned. "So to speak."  
  
"I can honestly say few things interest me less than Detective Dewey's love life." Fraser was practically sitting at attention, looking straight at the TV.  
  
"Well, what does it for you, then? You got any secret turn-ons?" And okay, teasing the Mountie wasn't nice, but it was kinda fun to watch. Fraser was just way too uptight about sex for a guy in his thirties. "C'mon, we're buddies, you can tell me."  
  
"Ray..." Ha, there was the thing with his neck, the little twist he did.  
  
"Ice cubes. I bet you got a thing for ice cubes." No reaction, so Ray pushed it a bit. "The cold on your skin, make you shiver, maybe squirm a bit."  
  
Fraser shifted. And his cheeks looked a bit redder.  
  
"Or fur. Must have lots of fur up in the Frozen North. Sealskins, and deerskins, maybe even a polar bear." And jeez, it was tacky, but he could picture it; a big pile of furs on the floor, firelight and Fraser just stretched out, all that pale skin and dark hair.  
  
All right, so maybe fur was his kink, not Fraser's. Still, Fraser swallowed, and out came his tongue, right at the corner of his mouth.  
  
"No, no, no, I got it! Licking. You'd put anything in your mouth, it's gotta be licking." Ray reached over, gave Fraser a friendly shove on the shoulder. "Go on, admit it. You and some girl, your tongue all over her, maybe a little bit of teeth..."  
  
Fraser turned, and looked at Ray for a second. He smiled, and it wasn't a friendly smile at all. Ray could see those pointy teeth gleam.   
  
"Man," said Fraser. "Me and some _man_ , Ray. But yes, licking. I like the scratch of stubble, the taste of sweat, the feel of skin and bone and muscle in my mouth." He licked his bottom lip, just a touch with his tongue and Ray had to watch, couldn't take his eyes off it. When he looked up again, Fraser was still smiling. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order?"   
  
He moved; slowly but christ, Ray wasn't going _anywhere_. Not with Fraser climbing into his lap - solid, heavy, pinning Ray just where he wanted him. Just where Ray wanted him, with one hand on Ray's chest and the other around Ray's wrist, bringing it up to his mouth. Ray couldn't look any more, had to close his eyes when Fraser bit down gently. Licked around and up and over Ray's palm, teeth sharp at the base of his thumb. Sucked his fingers into that wide mouth.  
  
Ray gasped. That was Fraser's mouth, and Fraser's fingers around his wrist, and god, Fraser's _other_ hand, pushing him back into the couch. Sliding down his chest, down and opening his jeans, opening _both_ their jeans.   
  
And then Fraser was bring their hands down; his hand on Ray's hand, holding them together. Wrapping around them. Moving up and down. There were teeth and a tongue on Ray's throat, his neck, his ear. His breath and Fraser's breath, no words now. Their hands moving; up and down, up and down and _around_ , hot and wet. Too soon, Fraser jerked, his teeth sharp against Ray's neck, his hand clenching on Ray's.   
  
Ray groaned and arched, one last time. He sagged forward, rested his forehead against Fraser's, one hand - his _other_ hand - around Fraser's head. Waited for his brain and his voice to get their shit together. "So." He swallowed, tried again. "Does it work both ways?"  
  
"Hmm?"   
  
No five dollar words just yet, then. "This licking thing. Does it work both ways?"  
  
Fraser looked blankly at him, so Ray lifted their hands to his mouth. Rubbed his lips across them, sucked on a knuckle. Hey, he could do demonstrations too.  
  
Fraser's eyes went wide. 

  
 

* * *

End The Girl From Ipanema by gurrier 

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